


Life Without Light

by tired_pinetree



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Frisk is mentioned, Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Papyrus isn't really a character but he's mentioned a lot, coping with depression and loss, focused on sans as a character, melancholic but not depressing, no romance planned, sans doesn't remember resets but he's aware of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tired_pinetree/pseuds/tired_pinetree
Summary: The aftermath of a neutral run is difficult to deal with. Sans is left alone after Papyrus and many others are killed by the human. Luckily, Toriel is still alive and has returned as queen. After her short lived reign, Sans goes to live with Toriel in the ruins. There, he struggles to live life without his brother, all while protecting Toriel from the knowledge that her protection of the human lead to so much death.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This covers one of the neutral runs, since I'm always curious about those timelines. I plan on covering other neutral runs, but in this one every major character is dead except Sans and Toriel. This is my first time posting on AO3 so I'm still getting used to the formatting. Thank you for reading, please review.

Sans sat on the stairs, head in hands. Behind him, the large golden hall gaped. Just a few minutes ago, he had faced down that child and judged them. And yet, despite everything they had done, despite everyone they had killed, he let them go. Sans was used to feeling numb about almost everything, but the kid made anger burn in his chest. But how could he kill them, not since both Papyrus and the lady behind the door’s dying wish was for them to be safe. The two of them were too nice for their own good.

  
Anyways, the kid was gone. If they were lucky at all, Asgore would kill them, take their soul, and break the barrier. Not like the sun mattered much without Papyrus. For all he knew, the kid could’ve reset a dozen times since he had left them in that hallway.

  
Sans pulled out a battered notebook. It was stained and crumpled, and looked much older than the linear time it had seen. Sans flipped through to near the end, past graphs and data tables, past dozens of entries written in his strange shorthand. The pain of loss was still numb to Sans, but out of habit he picked up a pen and wrote. This pain was not new, according to the many journal entries, but it was the first time he felt it outside of nightmares.

  
The kid, the time anomaly, had reset many times. The notebook in Sans’ hand was the only solid proof, aside from constant nightmares and a persistent sense of déjà vu. The records showed the many timelines the kid had orchestrated, all the different paths they took. This was the first time he had judged them, though. Sans faintly wondered if the kid would reset that too. Would he change his judgement? Probably not, he hadn’t changed anything else, not even when Paps was struck down again and again.

  
Guilt stabbed at Sans. He hunched over and dropped the notebook. It clattered down the steps. A sudden maelstrom of negative thoughts assaulted Sans’ mind. He didn’t have a single excuse, not a real one.

  
“Hello. I do believe this is yours?” A familiar voice spoke. It cut through his thoughts. Immediately, Sans plastered on his normal grin and adopted his casual attitude. A goat-like boss monster held out Sans’s notebook. Sans took it carefully and tucked it away.

  
“Hey. Have we met before?” Her voice was so familiar, but it might just be the echoes of other timelines.

  
“I was just thinking that. You don’t happen to have seen any children around here?” The monster abruptly switched the topic. She looked behind Sans at the long hallway. Suddenly, Sans felt somewhat relieved he hadn’t fought the kid. Blood and corpses would be hard to explain.

  
“Heh, you’ve _goat_ to be _kid_ ding me.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull. The monster refocused her attention on him.

  
“Wait a moment, that voice, those jokes, are you not the monster on the other side of the door?” She asked.

  
“Oh.” She wasn’t dead after all. “I am. Guess we’ve never introduced ourselves. I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton.” Sans held out a hand and tried to ignore how familiar the introduction felt.

 

“Oh, my. It’s very nice to meet you, Sans.” She took his hand. “I am Toriel.”

  
Of course Sans had heard about the former queen. Who hadn’t? Most had forgotten that bit of trivia, but it did make sense, considering the type of monster Asgore was. Sans repressed any signs of surprise. After the last few days, a reveal like this didn’t have that much of an impact.

  
Toriel began to walk up the small staircase. Really, stairs weren’t really necessary. All the height of the castle came from the long elevators, but there was something about stairs that made a place look good and official. “Sans, you watched over the child, ask I asked you?”

  
Jeez. Now he was really glad he hadn’t fought the kid. They might still be fighting Asgore, however, and if he let Toriel walk into that, she’d probably get killed without a fight. Sans couldn’t let that happen. He was dangerously low on friends and family.

  
“Course, Tori. I watched the kid pass through here myself, safe and sound. Wasn’t a scratch on them.” It was the truth. Not the full truth, but he was used to these little white lies that helped people live easier.

  
Toriel gave him a warm, genuine smile. “Thank you so much.” She continued walking down the hall. Sans followed, dragging his feet. She talked more. “I was going to let the child complete their journey on their own, but I realized how unfair it is to force a child to take a life for their freedom.” She said more on the subject, but Sans wasn’t paying as much attention as he knew he should have. This monster clearly had a completely different view on the kid, clearly cared for them. “Oh, I do hope I am not too late.” She picked up the pace.

  
They passed by closed doors and open windows and came to a garden. Toriel faltered and almost stopped when she saw the flowers. But she gathered some strength and made her way through, careful to not step on any vines.

  
The barrier always sheds a cool grey light over everything, even on the brightest summer day, but on this afternoon, the white and grey on the floor couldn’t be blamed on that. A large pile of dust lay before the glasslike barrier. Small swirls of dust were picked up by the draft. A heavy cloak, armor, and crown lay abandoned. The human was long gone.

  
Sans hung back and apathetically looked at the scene. Yes, it was horrible, but after seeing so many similar sights the last few days, it was hardly shocking.  
Toriel, however, was greatly affected. She dropped to her knees and brought a shaking hand to her mouth. Tears collected in her eyes and fell. It was unclear whether they were for her ex-husband or the child.

  
Sans stood behind awkwardly. The most disturbing thing about this scene wasn’t the king’s remains, but the absence of the kid. They might still be in the Underground. Where else could they have gone? Maybe they did manage to get through the barrier after all. After everything’s that’s happened, it wouldn’t surprise Sans.

  
That didn’t matter right now. What mattered now was Toriel. She was the last thing Sans had, the last chance he had to make things right, even if just a little bit.  
It took some time before Toriel composed herself enough to notice Sans was still there. She gave a broken little laugh. “Isn’t it funny? After all this time, and I still can’t save a single soul.” She sounded so devastated Sans felt he had to say something.

  
“Uh, Tori, the kid, it looks like the kid made it out okay. They must’ve gotten through the barrier somehow, if they’re not here.” The words were bitter in his mouth, offering the hope that the creature that killed his brother and countless others was still alive.

  
It worked, a little. “Thank you, Sans. It’s nice to think of them reunited with their family.” It took all of his willpower to agree. Toriel stood up. “I must address my kingdom. It is time I returned as queen.” She composed herself.

  
As she heavily walked away from the barrier, Sans trailed behind. “Hey, Tori, just wanna say, I’m with you.” It wasn’t really a promise, not of hope or help, but it felt like the right thing to say.

  
“Thank you, Sans. You are a good friend.” Sans walked off the pang of guilt that sent through his soul.

* * *

 

The early days were hard. Everything was falling apart. Without Papyrus, there wasn’t much reason to get up in the morning. If it wasn’t for Toriel, he might’ve not gotten up at all most days. He was hardly the only one suffering from loss. Nearly every monster had lost a family member or a friend. Fear and grief were present in equal amounts. There were so many funerals. The hospitals were busy as well, as more and more monsters lost hope and their health declined. It was a wonder he didn’t fall down himself.

  
It wasn’t just emotions that collapsed under the weight of attempting to live normally. Most of the structure holding up society had disappeared. A lot of the royal guard had been killed, although some had, inexplicably, been spared. Undyne in particular was a massive loss. She wasn’t just the head of the royal guard, she had been the champion of the monsters, an upcoming leader, a role model to many.

  
The future seemed so bleak. The king was gone, and while the queen took over, many were too young to remember her. Even Mettaton was gone, so they didn’t have TV escapism to turn to. The loss of the human souls was yet another blow to moral. It was all so much to take in.  
Toriel was a good queen. She knew what she was doing, but she let her sentimentality take over. She was in complete denial that the human could’ve done anything bad. Nobody wanted to be the one to argue with the queen. There had been enough fighting.

  
Sans was in a haze most of the time. Without Papyrus to remind him to do things, he ended up doing nothing at all. He half expected the human to reset every day, but that never happened. He didn’t know if he looked forward to that or not. Sans wanted nothing more than to see Papyrus again, but he couldn’t tolerate watching him die again. Days passed without him noticing.

  
Eventually, Sans realized he hadn’t heard from Alphys since the evacuation. Even Toriel hadn’t asked about her at all, which was strange considering Alphys was the Royal Scientist. Getting up was too much energy, so he sent several messages over the Undernet. Although Alphys was a nervous introvert in face to face conversations, she always responded to online stuff quickly and confidently. When he hadn’t gotten a response a week later, Sans knew something was up.  
Finally, Sans worked up the motivation to do something about it. He wandered out of the castle, where he had been staying since Toriel had become queen. Returning to his house without Papyrus was too much to even think about. On his way out, Toriel stopped him.

  
“Sans! It’s so good to see you up and about. Have you eaten yet today.” Sans accepted her mother henning. “By the way, I have an idea for a new policy I want to put into practice. I never supported the former king’s human policy, and without the other souls, it’s impractical to wait for seven more to come here. Besides, I do not want this cycle of violence to continue. Therefore, all humans who fall should be treated not as enemies, but as friends.”

  
Toriel looked so hopeful, the happiest she had looked in weeks. “Sounds great, Tori, but I don’t think people are going to like it.” Sans said through gritted teeth. Toriel seemed satisfied despite his warning, and let Sans go.

  
As soon as she was gone, he took one of his shortcuts to directly outside the lab. Inside, everything was dark and disused. There had been a flurry of activity here, back when Undyne and Mettaton had met with Alphys for help in their fights against the human, and the evidence still stood.

  
Sans slowly walked further into the lab. Something didn’t seem right about all this. He took a few more steps. Paper crinkled underneath his slippers. Sans bent down and picked up a letter.

  
He scanned the letter. It appeared to be some sort of confessional. He barely read to the end before dropping the paper and tentatively stepping into the elevator. As the doors closed, he leaned heavily on the railing. Alphys letter…it didn’t look like there was much that could be done. Sans felt very tired. He had known Alphys, was sort-of friends with her. He couldn’t blame her for what she claimed she did.

  
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding. The lab looked even more dingy than he remembered. Sans slowly opened the door to her office. Sure enough, a discarded lab coat lay on a silvery pile of dust.

  
Sans knew he should feel something. He should cry out, should fall to his knees and grasp the lab coat. He should swear revenge on the human, not just for Alphys but for every monster they senselessly killed.

  
Instead, he blankly stood there. After a while, a lyric from an old record he had once scavenged from the dumps and spent nights listening to with Papyrus came to mind. “Heh, another one bites the dust.” It was horribly inappropriate, and not really funny, but he chuckled along anyways.

  
What to do now? That was the persistent question. No doubt there would have to be a funeral and a public announcement of the death of the Royal Scientist. Too bad it looked like Alphys didn’t have any friends or family to participate in that funeral, not anymore. It’s hard to hold a funeral when there’s nobody who knows what that person’s favorite thing was.

  
Sans didn’t keep track of time before he heard something moving down the hall towards him. He didn’t care enough to react until it sat panting behind him. A warm, wet tongue licked him. Finally, Sans turned around. A strange sight greeted him. The creature was definitely big and furry, but it was hard to make any other definite statements about it. Several mouths panted and drooled, and three tails wagged happily. The thing butted one of its heads against Sans’ chest.

  
“You look hungry. Here, have one on the house.” Sans pulled out an old hot dog from his jacket. It was practically petrified from an eternity rolling in lint, but the dog creature was more than happy to snap it out of the air. “You must be Endogeny.” Alphys had written about them in her letter, but it hadn’t quite registered until now. “Guess that means there’s a bunch of others like you.”

  
Again, Sans had to wonder what the best thing to do was. Well, perhaps the morally best thing to do was to sleuth out their families, return the amalgamates, and explain the whole thing to everyone in person. That sounded like so much work. He really wasn’t the best for this job, but everyone qualified was dead, so there was no use complaining.

  
Sans walked around the lab. The amalgamates largely ignored him or begged him for food. In one of the rooms, he found a large food dispenser, half full, so at least there was no chance for starvation in the time it had taken for him to come here. It had been many years since Sans had walked these hallways, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to be swept away by the nostalgia.

  
He had to go. This was too much now. He found a photocopier upstairs, and made several copies of the section of Alphys letter that extensively discussed the origin and nature of the amalgamates. Sans left out the suicide bit from the photocopies. It just didn’t seem like the place for it. He tied one copy around the necks of every amalgamate. “Go find your families,” he said to them as he let the run out of the lab.

  
They soon disappeared out of sight. Maybe that wasn’t the best decision, but it wouldn’t be the first bad choice he had made. He took the original copy of Alphys’ letter and teleported back to the castle. “Hate to be the bearer of more bad news, Tori, but the Royal Scientist is dead.” Sans was in no mood for pleasantries and handed the letter to Toriel. She was devastated, so compassionate for someone she had never met.  
Sans and Toriel consoled each other the best they could, that is to say, Toriel talked a lot and asked questions while Sans stayed mostly quiet or tried to make jokes that fell flat.

  
A revelation like that couldn’t stay secret for long, especially not with the amalgamates roaming the Underground. Luckily, they were just interested in rejoining their many families and didn’t cause more problems. Toriel still had to give a public speech.

  
“My dear people, another tragedy had recently stricken us. Our own Royal Scientist, Alphys, has passed. In addition, her experiments with determination, human souls, and monster souls have resulted in the creatures known as amalgamates.” Toriel began her speech. She talked extensively about Alphys’ life and work, and explained the presence of the amalgamates in her characteristic reassuring way.

  
She used the amalgamates to transition into her human policy proposal. “We have seen the damage caused by misuse of human souls. We know the pain caused by the deaths of children. For this reason, and many others, I propose a new policy towards fallen humans. Any human who falls here shall be treated not as enemies, but as friends.”

  
It was a good statement, and in another life, it may have even been a good policy, but here and now, it stirred up a lot of displeasure. Usually Toriel commanded a dignified atmosphere that left bystanders respectful, but now, the public roared their disapproval. Pain and sorrow expressed themselves in anger and hate. They refrained from throwing objects at the queen, but they seemed at the brink of doing so.

  
Toriel quickly ended the announcement and retreated back into the castle. Sans met her there. Toriel was distraught. “Oh, I don’t know what I did wrong, Sans. I will not be like Asgore. I will not take innocent lives. However if this is truly what the people want…I will not stand in the way of that but I will also not be an executor.” Sans offered her his shoulder and what meager comfort he could offer. “Thank you, Sans. You are a good friend and a good person, even to this silly old lady.” Accepting that compliment felt like lying to himself, but right now, Toriel was the one hurting.

* * *

 

Toriel’s unofficial dethroning wasn’t an immediate process. She waited several days before meeting with several groups of monsters and leaders to try to promote her human policy, but they refused to accept it. It became clear after two weeks: either kill humans or step down. Sans wasn’t surprised when Toriel graciously abdicated the throne. But there was nobody there to fill it.

  
The day Toriel left the castle, Sans found her in her room. “My friend, it appears our paths separate here.”

  
Sans walked closer. “Where’re you going?”

  
Toriel turned away. “Back to the ruins. Another human is bound to fall, and someone has to take care of the flowers.”

  
“Hey, got room for one more there?” Toriel looked at him, confused but hopeful. “Think it’s time for a change of pace for me too.”

  
“Oh, Sans, you do not need to give up your life here for me.”

  
Sans shrugged. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Got nothing here for me, anyways.” Nothing but a cold and empty house, nothing but dusty memories. Toriel was the last good thing Sans had left in his life, he wasn’t going to let her disappear into the ruins and become just a distant voice again.

  
Toriel was overjoyed. “Sans! Thank you so much. Your company is much appreciated.” She swept him into a hug.

* * *

 

Packing didn’t take long for Toriel, and took even less time for Sans. It was too much for them both to bear the looks they received and the despair, so they took the ferry. The river person was less busy than normal, as much of their business was gone. They were infamous for giving bits of prophecies and nonsense. They spoke, “Tra-la-la. Flowers cannot bloom in the dark, but mushrooms can.”

  
It wasn’t worth deciphering the river person’s phrases, and in any case, it seemed to mostly be a bit of straightforward gardening advice. They got off at the Snowdin dock. The two of them walked into town. The library caught Sans’ eye. “Hey, Tori, how ‘bout you go on ahead? I’ll check us out some books. Help you turn over a new page.” Toriel giggled at the joke.

  
“That sounds wonderful, Sans. Admittedly, my old reading material has gotten a bit dull. I’ll leave the door unlocked, just knock.” They parted ways at the junction. Sans had no problem checking out books from the library. The librarians were curious as ever, and they chatted as he browsed the stacks. Being back in Snowdin felt so normal, and so weird. Sans half expected Papyrus to burst through the door, full of excitement and life.

  
As Sans left the cozy library, he couldn’t avoid looking at their, no, his, house. It looked cold and dead. An emptiness yawned in his chest. Around Toriel, he could almost forget, sometimes. Now that filled him with even more guilt. He wondered if he would ever be free of the guilt and grief.

  
Sans kept walking, kept from lingering. The path through Snowdin wasn’t much easier, though. Most of its citizens were out and about, and they were happy to chat for a few moments with Sans. It was tiring, pretending to be fine, but it was even more exhausting when someone brought up Papyrus.

  
Eventually, he managed to detangle himself from the gaggles of curious admirers. The snow was fresh and crisp. The walk was calming, in a way. As Sans passed traps and puzzles, he allowed himself to remember Papyrus and their adventures out in these woods with equal amounts of happiness and sadness.

  
So far, he hadn’t seen any of the Dog Guard. Sans was about halfway through the forest when Dogamy and Dogaressa showed up. Apparently, they had moved closer to the door since the human had passed through and abandoned their other post. They were the only guards left, and they both had a haunted look to them. “Hi Sans.” Dogaressa greeted him, subdued. Usually, Dogamy echoed Dogaressa and they finished each other’s sentences, but he was silent. “Where’re you going?” Sans answered her honestly, there was no reason to lie. They kept up small talk for a while, before Dogaressa burst out, “I’m so sorry, Sans. Papyrus-it’s our fault we let that human go. We just let them walk by us, and they killed so many. Why are we here when they’re gone?”

  
She sounded so lost and distraught. Sans shook his head. “Dogaressa, I don’t think anything that human did can be rationalized. It’s okay, don’t blame yourself. If anyone’s to blame, it should be me.” Sans let a little self-loathing slip at the end accidentally.

  
They tried to talk some more, but there wasn’t really anything to say. The Underground had fallen into something of an uncomfortable anarchy, but out here in Snowdin, some of the last of the guards remained in case they were needed, unconcerned about the turmoil engulfing New Home.

  
Sans said farewell to the Dogi. It was not long until he reached the grand purple door leading to the ruins. Like so many times before, he knocked on the door. Almost immediately, it opened to reveal Toriel. “Oh, allow me to help you with those.” She grabbed half of Sans’s stack of books. “You really did not have to go through such trouble for me.” Sans waved off her concern.

  
They made their way to the main level of the house. It was warm and homey looking. Sans watched Toriel bustle around the fireplace and kitchen. In the castle, she had looked like a regal queen. Here, she looked like a kindly matriarch.

  
She entered the dining room with a pie already in her hands. “I simply could not resist making you some snail pie while I waited.” They sat down for an early supper. The pie, of course, was delicious.

  
After they had washed up from the meal, Toriel led Sans to a hallway with several doors branching off it. They stopped at a door with an “room under renovations” sign taped to it. “It has been many years since someone has stayed in this room, but I hope you like living here anyways,” she said. Sans opened the door. It was a fairly typical looking guest room, somewhat musty, but honestly a lot cleaner than his room back in Snowdin.

  
“Gee, thanks Tori.” Sans looked around the room.

  
“I’ll leave you to settle in.” She walked into her own room. Sans wandered around. There were few mementos left by whoever had lived here before. He quietly left and explored the rest of the house. He had seen most of it already: the kitchen, the dining room/living room, hallway, stairs, and the exit from the ruins. He found a small attic stuffed full.

  
Then, of course, there was the kid’s room. It was full of childish drawings, stuffed animals, shoes, things left behind by the seven kids. It was impossible to tell who had left what. It made Sans uncomfortable to think of the kid living in this room, cared for by Toriel. Inevitably, another child would fall and live here. Sans didn’t know what he would do then.

  
Sans finished his exploration and returned to his bed. The following days were almost the same as his life in the castle. He would sleep odd hours. When he was awake, he’d stare at the wall or listen to Toriel talk. Toriel kept the house alive, and kept Sans alive too.

  
She was understanding of Sans’s lifestyle, even without knowing why he acted like he did. Many afternoons and evenings, she would read out loud or talk aimlessly by the fire as Sans listened or dozed. It was an idle life.

  
Toriel still loved the child so much, however. She would often fall back on nostalgic musings about them. When that happened, Sans would make a conscious effort not to respond poorly. He had only himself to blame for his brother’s death. Telling Toriel would only cause her so much pain. There had been enough of that lately.  
As for Sans, he tried not to think much at all, especially about humans. It only lead him into circles of pity, sorrow, and guilt. Sometimes, he wished the kid would reset, just so he could see Papyrus’s face again. Sometimes, he even felt anger break through the numbness. When that happened, he kept to a more distant part of the ruins to avoid snapping at Toriel.

* * *

  
It was hard to keep track of time. Under the ground, the temperature was pretty stable. It didn’t help that nearer to Snowdin, there was a persistent chill and there was always beautiful red leaves scattered in every corner. The magic regulating night and day wasn’t as finely tuned as it was in the rest of the underground either.  
The only way to keep track of time was Toriel’s daily habits. Every day, she tended to a small garden of flowers near the opening of the barrier. Sometimes Sans joined her. When the sun is angled just right, sunbeams reach all the way to the golden flowers. Toriel enjoyed his company there, even though he didn’t really help. Sans sometimes thought if he saw a human fall down, he’d save everyone the trouble and kill it before Toriel could see, but despite these thoughts, he knew deep down that wasn’t likely. The best he could do is walk with Toriel, and hope that if a human attacked, he would be able to defend them both.

  
They fell into a pattern. Toriel was mostly content. She had seen much heartbreak, and though recent events weighed heavily on her at times, she was able to rebound and smile again. Sans put up a good show. Their interactions were filled with puns and laughter. It didn’t matter that oftentimes, that laughter was forced.  
Sans tried so hard to not think about anything more than each passing lazy day, but even he couldn’t ignore reality forever. It was Toriel who unwittingly gave the push.

  
“Sans,” Toriel began as she stirred a bowl of something. Sans could tell she really had something on her mind by her tone. “Did you not have a life back in Snowdin? You often talked of your brother, but I have not heard stories of him in so long. Why did you come here if you had a family?” Toriel sounded both curious and concerned.

  
Sans hadn’t expected to be called out this early. “Uh, my brother doesn’t need me anymore.” It was the truth. There was nothing more he could do for Papyrus. Anything he did would just be for his own benefit.

  
“Well, if there’s anything you need to do, you are free to go do it. I do not wish to hold you captive in this place.” Toriel sounded genuinely upset at the idea.

  
Sans held up his hands to placate her. “Hey, sure. Think I’ll go back tomorrow, get some stuff done, and come back.” Toriel looked relieved. She began to tell him the summary of the latest book she had read. Sans tried to focus on her calm words instead of his apprehension over the next day’s events.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a few more chapters of this planned out but I don't have an update schedule. I am fueled by responses, though. There's another brief mention of suicide here, nothing to heavy. At the risks of giving out spoilers, I'm not going to have Sans end up killing himself, so don't worry about that. Now, whether he'll ever get over Papyrus's death is another thing...

The next day, Sans got up tired as ever. He regretted promising to return to Snowdin now. Promises were a tricky thing. Even if they weren’t explicitly stated, they could so easily tangle someone in a web of obligations and requirements.

After a delicious breakfast courtesy of Toriel, Sans embarked on his journey. It was undeniably odd to retrace his steps he took with Papyrus, and later, Toriel, back to the town. Everything looked about the same so far. Few people outside of the guards came this back to the forest. Most monsters preferred to hike in the trees where they couldn’t see the cavern wall and remember that, despite the huge open spaces of Snowdin, they were still trapped by stone and magic.

He passed by the Dogi’s sentry post. It was empty, but judging by the thermoses, not abandoned. Soon enough, he saw them rush out of the trees. They relaxed as soon as they smelled him.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sans.” Dogaressa said.

“Yes, it’s good to smell you.” Dogamy murmured.

Sans nodded at the pair. The shocked numbness that had been on their faces the last time he had seen them had faded, and Dogamy was now talking again, but they looked far from fine. They all struggled to make small talk for a few moments, but nobody had anything to say. The Dogi let Sans continue into town.

Snowdin had always been a rather Gyftmas town, full of light and cheer as if to ward off the chill of the dark forest surrounding it. Today, it seemed a little less warm and colorful as he remembered. Quite a few houses were dark. It was impossible to tell if the windows were dark because the occupants were in deep morning, or if there was nobody left in them to turn on lights.

  
Snowdin had also always been a rather small town. There was a real sense of community and warmth between everyone who made their home in the town. There’s a big difference between a small town and a half deserted town, however. A few monsters walked around listlessly. It was actually kinda depressing, the way things were so unusually dismal.

  
Just being back here was weird. It sent a shiver up Sans’s spine in a way the icy air never did. Grillby’s still looked open and pretty homey. More than anywhere else in the town, anyways. Sans made his way to the welcoming bar and grill.

  
Inside, there was a lot more monsters than outside, but it was still a lot less than was normally here for lunch. He walked up to the bar and ordered a bottle of ketchup. Sans didn’t feel anywhere near hungry. Grillby silently pulled down a bottle for him. He was usually a pretty quiet monster, outside of the soft cracking of his flames, so it was impossible to tell if the situation of the Underground had left him speechless like it had other monsters.

  
Sans leaned back and took stock of the room’s occupants as he gulped down the condiment. There were a few bunnies, a few stray fish, a snowdrake huddled in the corner, and Greater Dog. The Royal Guard was chowing down with all his attention focused on his food. There was no sign of Doggo or Lesser Dog. Dimly, Sans remembered stumbling across their dusty weapons.

  
Sans shook his head. It was so random who was killed. It just didn’t make sense. How did the human choose who to spare and who to kill? They played god with so many lives here and they didn’t even stick around to see what happened.

  
He was a little surprised nobody questioned where he had been for the past few months. Maybe it was normal for monsters to just disappear now. Even the usual random small talk wasn’t as common as it used to be. Even here, in Grillby’s, where Sans could almost call himself popular, he had gotten a barely few nods and greetings. That’s for the better. He didn’t want to get caught up in emotional conversations or talk about what happened.

  
A booth filled with three bunnies caught his attention with their chatter. When he had walked in, they had been talking inanely about weather or something, but now their conversation was shifting to something more interesting.

  
“Oh, but my little one just got back from visiting a friend in Hotland, you know, the nice girl who comes by near about every Saturday. She talked my ear off about all the ruckus in New Home,” a grey rabbit said.

  
“I know, that queen wasn’t good for much, but she was better than nothing.” A white bunny replied. Sans felt a spark of offense on Toriel’s behalf, but that fizzled. Toriel meant well, better than most, but she was kinda out of touch with the rest of the Underground.

  
“Still, you’d expect someone to step up eventually.” The grey rabbit continued.

  
“I’ve heard a lot about the little riots and nonsense happening in New Home. Makes me glad Snowdin’s so far from that,” a brownish bunny spoke.

  
“Sure, sure, it’s all stayed pretty peaceful and on the other side of the Underground, but we’re all stuck down here. Can’t just get away from it like that,” the grey bunny said.

 

“Well, I gotta say, things sure haven’t been the same here since all that went down,” the white bunny said.

  
“I know, at least back then, things didn’t seem as…hopeless.” The table of bunnies fell quiet for a moment. Sans was half afraid they had noticed his eavesdropping.

  
“But enough of that! We’ll just have to keep going on like we always do.” The white bunny perked up again. Their idle chatting moved away from the uneasy political state of the Underground and back into the mundanities of everyday life.

  
Sans stuck around for a little while longer. He wasn’t feeling up to telling his usual jokes, and the other monsters didn’t seem like they’d appreciate them anyways.

  
Eventually, he got ready to leave. He fished around for a few gold coins in his pockets and slide them to Grillby. Grillby just looked at the coins. Sans spoke, “Hey, gotta pay back that tab sometime. Might as well start.” Grillby nodded and picked up the coins.

  
Sans left the bar and stood in the snow as the door shut behind him. He could almost see his old house from here. If it wasn’t for the decorated Gyftmas tree standing in the clearing, he probably would’ve had no problem seeing it.

  
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and slowly trudged through the snow. He looked up when a beam of bright light cut across his path. The library. Sans didn’t smile, but briefly, he felt a flash of real happiness.

  
He had spent hours, days, in this library. While it wasn’t near as big or grand as New Home’s libraries, Snowdin’s “Libraby” had an appeal all its own. There were so many good memories in that little building. It had been too long since he’d last gone in, even though they had lived practically next door. He stopped several months before the human came into the picture. That’s for the better. There were no recent bad memories associated with the library.

  
Anything to distract from the dark looming house was good enough for Sans. With a puff of cold wind, he was all but blown into the building when he opened the door. The librarian looked up and greeted him with a small smile. She didn’t say anything more, to Sans’s relief.

  
He idly browsed the stacks of books. Here, he could almost forget why he really returned to Snowdin. Sans pulled out a few good books and stacked them on the librarian’s desk to check out.

  
Once again in the snow, he realized he couldn’t stall anymore. He had to go into their house. Toriel might not have been there to make sure he followed through, but he had already come all this way.

  
Sans shuffled to the stairs. He brushed off part of them and placed the books there. At the very least, he could bring them back to Toriel.

  
Sans stood on the doorstep. A strange mixture of dread and anticipation rose within him. He forced it down as he turned the nob.

  
It was dark and cold. Of course. How long had it been since anyone had come in here? Long enough that people had stopped caring if the house got consistent power. An experimental flick of a light switch, it’s placement instinctively known after years of repeated motion, confirmed that there was electricity. For now, at least. With all that trouble in the capital and around the core, it’s the little things like electricity that got overlooked, especially way out in the boondocks like Snowdin.

  
Their house looked exactly like it had the last time they had both lived there. Sans may have left it not expecting to ever return, but he hadn’t expected to live to return to anything else, really.

  
For a long moment, Sans was frozen at the doorstep. Everything was exactly the same. It was like walking into a snapshot, like at any moment Papyrus would come running in excited about the royal guard or the human.

  
The kitchen, from what he could see from the door, still had the dirty pots piled in the sink that Papyrus had exasperatedly yelled him to clean. Their pet rock sat just as motionless as it always had on its plate, although it looked like the sprinkles had melted and frozen slightly. The TV was dark, their bedroom doors were shut, and the space, although strewn with a few random papers, dirty clothes, and other items, was relatively clear.

  
It was like a dream, like the beginning of a nightmare. All that time he had spent at Toriel’s house, he had pushed away thoughts of this place and his life before the ruins. He should have known it couldn’t last. This place was waiting for him.  
Sans took a few steps into the living room. Puffs of dust rose from the carpet and swirled around his ankles. It wasn’t his brother’s dust. Sans had given Papyrus a proper funeral before he had gone to the castle. Maybe it wasn’t as complete as he had hoped it would be-there was an extreme shortage of guests-but it was a real funeral. He didn’t deserve to drift away in the snow, lost in the mist.

  
Memories of the little funeral rose unbidden into his mind. Although the events of that day were firmly etched into his mind, the time was so hazy. He had mourned for years before facing the kid in the hall. The basics of all monster funerals are the same: scattering the dust on the loved one’s favorite objects. There were variations and additions. Many funerals had a lot of speeches and singing. Some preferred to mix the dust with water or another element, or just to scatter the dust in a quiet natural place, like the river. He had even heard of some burning the deceased favorite’s objects with the dust.

  
Sans had tried to think of what Papyrus would have wanted. Lots of friends, of course, and probably some speeches about what an accomplishment his life was. Sans couldn’t give that to him. Papyrus’s funeral consisted of Sans muttering apologies and praise as he rubbed dust onto Papyrus’s favorite books, puzzles, action figures, pans, and, of course, his scarf.

  
The thick layer of dust coating every horizontal surface-and even most of the vertical ones too-were much more meaningless than that. It wasn’t made up of the last remains of a person. Though, with how much fresh monster dust has been drifting around the Underground, it wasn’t certain that there wasn’t some of that. It’s funny how dust both represents the undisturbed passing of time and the passing of a monster.

  
How long had he been standing there, in the middle of the room, looking at nothing? Skeletons can’t feel the cold, but when a particularly strong gust of wind sent a breeze whistling through his ribs, shutting the door seemed like a good idea.

  
Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do. What could he do? Nothing would change. Maybe he could find some sort of “closure”, however impossible it seemed. Sans aimlessly wandered around the first floor of the house. Going up those stair and entering Papyrus’s room was too much right now.

  
Now and then, when his slippers caught on something, he would bend over to examine it. Most of it was silly knickknacks. Broken human junk from Waterfall. Well-worn books on puns, science, puzzles, and riddles. Dirty socks that never quite made it to the washing machine. Funny little notes from both of them, which Sans read with a wistful smile.

  
The more time he spent in his old house, the more wrong it felt. It began as an ominous feeling in the back of his skull and it spread to his very soul. It was far too quiet. It had never been this quiet and empty with Papyrus. The life had left this home when Papyrus had ran to challenge the human. Sans shivered. Silence was unnatural. Toriel’s noise was very, very different from Papyrus’s, but she was far from quiet too.

  
Sans tried to imagine living here again. It seemed impossible. This life, this house, didn’t fit him anymore. Life with Toriel wasn’t great, but it was life. Here, it was a crypt, and it felt so fundamentally wrong that his-Papyrus’s-home, one full of warmth and life, was no more than a tomb.

  
Sans felt sick, never mind that skeletons don’t easily get ill. It would be better to go through this quickly and return to the small, safe world of the Ruins.

  
He made his way up the stairs. A brief moment of curiosity made him look into his old room. It was just as messy as he remembered it. Mountains of junk and dirty clothes, practically no decorations, a little whirlwind in the corner. Sans absentmindedly noted that the dog that sometimes napped in the miniature tornado wasn’t there. He quickly checked that the key was still in the drawer. It was. He considered using it and checking in on the lab, but what was the use? The only thing there was those photographs, those diagrams, that machine. No, he wouldn’t visit the lab after all.

  
Enough procrastinating. Sans stood outside of Papyrus’s door. He knocked twice. Nobody answered. He let himself in.  
Just like the rest of the house, it looked the same. Sans ran his fingers over some of the surfaces, avoiding the particularly dusty items. What was he doing here? What did he really expect to come out of this? Just more pain and freshly reopened wounds. Papyrus would’ve screamed at how dusty his room had gotten while he was gone. Sans chuckled slightly.

  
He sat down heavily on Papyrus’s bed. He would never again sit here and tell Papyrus a bed time story. He would never again read car magazines with Papyrus and argue over which one they would get. He would never…the list went on and on. Sans knew he had structured his life around Papyrus. He knew he lived for Papyrus. But now that he was gone, what was Sans supposed to do now?

  
Well, Alphys had already made her choice. Sans couldn’t blame her. He understood far too well. There was something scary about that, understanding so deeply why someone else would kill themselves. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about that himself. Maybe it was because he really was just a coward to the core, maybe it was because Papyrus wouldn’t have wanted him to, but Sans could never really commit to it. It’s a terrible feeling, to not see either death or life as a long term option.

  
In the Ruins, he could take it day by day. Sans had loved taking care of Papyrus, if you had asked him, he’d probably tell you it was his life’s mission. That is, if he was feeling particularly honest and open that day. There was something nice about having someone else take care of things. With Toriel, he didn’t have to worry about cooking, a job, or really doing anything he didn’t want to. And didn’t that make him feel guilty as hell. Papyrus had gone and died to protect people, and here was his brother, who was supposed to protect and avenge him, living the high life without a second glance.

  
He shouldn’t have come. This house, this room, was full of far too many memories and thoughts. They swirled around, and always returned to the same things. It was his fault.

  
Sans stood up. As he turned to leave, a piece of paper barely sticking out from under the bed caught his eye. Stuffing papers under his bed definitely wasn’t something Papyrus would normally do. Sans pulled it out into the light.

  
It was a list of numbers. More specifically, it was a list of four digit phone numbers. At the top, the words “HUMAN PHONE NUMBER???” was scrawled in Papyrus’s signature handwriting. It took a second, but then the realization hit Sans. Even with how moody and uninterested the kid was throughout the puzzles, even though there clearly was something off, Papyrus had wanted the kid’s phone number. He had wanted to be their friend. So much for that.

  
He could almost picture the moment. Papyrus would’ve been sitting here at his desk, focusing intently on the paper. He would’ve methodically called every single one, not even skipping phone numbers he knew were his neighbors. What was he thinking? Did he hope the kid would be his friend, or was he already planning the kid’s redemption? Something must’ve distracted Papyrus. Maybe he looked at the clock, maybe he had heard about the human’s movements. Either way, it was sudden enough for him to get up and leave without noticing his sudden movement had carried the paper away. And there the paper had rested, unnoticed by Sans himself when he had briefly entered with Papyrus’s dust.

  
Holding the page, Sans felt…something. It was a still, quiet sort of anger. Some part of him rang with the utter injustice of it all. Papyrus really was too nice for his own good. The last thing he wrote, the last thing he said, the last thing he did, it was all for the sake of helping that human. And for what? To be blindly cut down.

  
The list was unfinished. Papyrus hadn’t found the number before he left, but Sans could tell he had been close to narrowing it down.

  
Sans felt vaguely sick. It would’ve been better to have never found the paper. Now, there was even more unfinished business. More unresolved threads. Despite his disgust and hatred of the kid, some small part of him wondered if he could really call the human. Surely Toriel had their number. After all, she had been the one to give them the phone. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but maybe that was something. He didn’t know. It was difficult enough to stand before them in that golden hall and judge them, to willingly call them, that would be hard.

  
Sans folded the paper carefully and stuck it between the pages of the tattered notebook he still held in his jacket pockets out of habit. He didn’t want to commit to anything, he couldn’t decide whether to call or not. Whatever. That’s a problem for future Sans.

  
There really wasn’t anything to do here. Sans didn’t want to take anything back with him. Too many memories. He didn’t want to look over every bit of their house just to feed his sadness. He didn’t want to give another eulogy to the dusty objects lying around. He didn’t know what he wanted, but it wasn’t this. Well, actually, he knew what he wished for every waking moment. He wanted his brother back, but unless the human managed to reset everything again, that was impossible.

  
Right now, Sans didn’t feel much of anything. His soul was heavy, and it was hard to think about the future, but he felt numb.  
Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. He left. When he closed the door, it shut with a final sounding thud.

  
Robotically, he picked up the stack of books and brushed off the thin layer of snow that had accumulated while he had explored the house.

  
It was getting late. The ceiling was beginning to dim. It was hard to believe Sans had spent the entire day here, but it felt like time to go anyways.

  
Walking through the deepening snow was exhausting. Sans thought about just taking a shortcut right to the door to the Ruins and being done with it, but he needed to clear his head in the cold air before seeing Toriel again.

  
The streets were all but empty as he passed them. The other monsters had either returned to their homes because of the falling night, or to huddle with their remaining loved ones.

  
It didn’t take that long to pass through the dark trees and half broken puzzles in the woods. There was no sign of any of the dog sentries this time. He had almost expected them to keep watch through all hours of the day and night to guard against the threat of another human coming and destroying everything that remained. That wasn’t a reasonable thought. Surely they got tired, especially with only three sentries remaining. It was more surprising they hadn’t gone to the capital to try to maintain the peace.

  
By now, evening had fallen over the Snowdin woods. It wasn’t too dark. The faintly glowing stones impeded in the ceiling and the white snow kept it from ever being truly dark in Snowdin.

  
Soon enough, he had reached the looming purple door. Toriel had left it cracked just enough for him to come back into the Ruins without having to rely on Toriel waiting to open the door.

  
The climate change was extremely stark as he set foot into the Ruins again. The air in the Ruins was much warmer and wetter than the cold dry air of Snowdin, but there was still a certain crispness to it. While Snowdin always smelled of pine and ice, the Ruins smelled almost musty, like dry decaying leaves.

  
Sans walked through the purple halls in Toriel’s basement and up the stairs into her house. He could hear Toriel bustling about in the kitchen, and a delicious scent wafted through the house. Sans set the stack of books on the table and went into the kitchen to investigate.

  
“Oh, hello, Sans. I hope your visit to Snowdin has been a good one. Dinner will be ready shortly. Please set the table.” Toriel greeted Sans warmly. Sans did as she asked, and in a few short minutes, they were tucking into a dinner that could only be described as comfort food. The food was delicious but heavy. It weighed Sans down a little to know he was able to enjoy all this while his brother never would, but he pushed it away like usual.

  
“So tell me, Sans, how is your brother? I have heard so much about him I cannot help but care for him as well,” Toriel asked.  
Sans slowed. What should he say? Obviously he couldn’t tell Papyrus was dead. It would destroy Toriel to know his brother was dead because she had let that human pass. Sans didn’t blame her, not really, but no doubt she would blame herself. Sans had half a mind to say something about how he’s “at peace” or was “with his favorite things”, but he refrained.

  
Before the silence could last an awkwardly long time, Sans responded. “Oh, he’s just fine. He…moved away but he’s been about the same.”

  
Toriel looked interested. “Really? I am happy to hear he is doing so well. Once again, though, I must say I don’t want to keep you from your family. I don’t want you to move away from your brother just for this silly old lady.”

  
Sans waved off Toriel’s guilt with a flick of his hand and an easy smile. “Don’t sweat it, Tori. My bro’s always been about independence anyways. He’s probably happy he doesn’t have to pick up my messes anymore.” It hurt to dismiss Papyrus so easily like that, and his words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was worth it to see Toriel's happiness. Sans changed the subject quickly anyways.

  
That night, alone in his room, he removed the paper and smoothed out the creases. Sans gently touched the letters and numbers Papyrus had written. He still hadn’t decided what to do about it. Whatever he did, it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t bring Papyrus back. Even if he managed to guilt trip the human into resetting, even though they hadn’t hesitated when he judged them, he was pretty sure it was impossible to reset past the barrier. It might be impossible to call as well.

  
Whatever. Sans put the paper into a drawer and laid on his bed. It’s a problem for another day. At least returning to Snowdin wasn’t quite as painful as he had feared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I've never been too terribly good at keeping to a writing schedule and life's been getting in the way. Anyways, here's a shorter chapter. I've got at least one more chapter planned for this story. Thanks for reading, and please review if you have the time.

If it wasn’t for that nagging paper, Sans would have easily slipped back into the hazy routines from before he returned to Snowdin. He kept Papyrus’s list of phone numbers well hidden, but the whole “out-of-sight-out-of-mind” thing definitely wasn’t working.

The human’s phone number wasn’t the only thing to follow his thoughts after his day trip to Snowdin. Outside of the artificial peace of the Ruins’ walls, the Underground was struggling through a power vacuum. Sans had no interest at all in leading. He probably wouldn’t have returned to the Castle or stayed there at all if it wasn’t for Toriel. But still, the Underground was his home, and the slightest urge of curiosity stirred.

It turned out that the best place to go for information in the Ruins was the spiders. Of course, he could just go through the doors and actually talk to his old neighbors or the remainders of the Royal Guard, but that would require going back into Snowdin and talking to people who knew and would try to talk about Papyrus.

The spiders, on the other hand, were emotionally neutral and low commitment. It turned out that in the aftermath of the human’s attacks, Muffet, who inexplicably survived, had expanded her economic empire to cover news. It was only natural. Muffet had more entrepreneurial drive in her than any other monster Sans knew. It also helped that the expansive network of spiders already covering the underground were the perfect journalists.

It became another part of Sans’s routine to stop by the web, drop in some coins, and take out a newspaper. He usually just scanned through the main headlines. He remembered back in Snowdin’s library, the newspaper editors would fill the papers with puzzles and fun tidbits to make up for the lack of events. He missed that. These days, there was always something going on. It was exhausting. Usually, he’d skim a few articles of tragedy and updates, and then fold the rest into paper boats to float until, soggy in the stream, they fell apart.

After a while, the paper boats almost seemed like a tribute to Papyrus. They were so whimsical, but so fragile and short lived. Sans briefly allowed himself to imagine Papyrus enthusiastically sailing the ships. If Papyrus was here…Sans let that thought hang wistfully. It hurt desperately to think of that, but there was a little fondness in it too. Sometimes the space next to him was so empty it echoed.

Sans stopped getting the newspaper. What was the point? Nothing was really changing out there, just a consistent state of uncertainty and despair. Toriel didn’t comment on the lack of newspapers on their table. She simply sighed and gave Sans a sad, small smile. Sans met her smile with his own joyless grin. For a moment, there was a real understanding between the two monsters.

The days rolled on. Sans spent his time trailing after Toriel. In the beginning, he would explore the mazelike ruins, but they seemed so small after a while. His favorite place to sit alone was in the crumbling city, next to a bridge, under a light-starved sapling. The creek bed was dry underneath the bridge, filled only with dead leaves. Sans often sat back against the thin tree and looked up through the branches to the distantly glowing ceiling, broken by the leaves of the tree.

In the evenings, they talked and joked while Toriel knitted and Sans boondoggled. By this point, they had enough yarn creations and braided plastic keychains to last several lifetimes. It was a comfortable pattern, though.

Sans was done with comfortable routines. This life was so cozy it made him want to scream. After all that violence and action, he was here. He was here, and doing nothing. Sans felt an unusual itching in his bones that compelled him to do something. Something that would make his worthless existence mean something. A quiet unrest built up in Sans. Something needed to change. Somebody needed to pay for pay for all of this. Somebody needed to suffer for this suffering.

There was only Sans.

 

And the paper.

The concept was simple. A phone call. Just dialing up a few numbers and bam-instant communication. How to apply it was what complicated the whole affair. Sans tried to imagine what he’d say to that human.

Would he finally break down and beg for them to reset and bring his brother back? Demand apologies? Ask why? 

Would he scream and rage at them? Throw their heinous actions back in their face and judge their disgusting soul? Demand justice? Ask how could they?

Sans played the possibilities over in his mind. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Without knowing at the time, he realized he had already made his decision to call. All that was left was following through with it. 

He’d never been very good about following through. Anyone in Snowdin could tell you that. After a while, though, he gathered the scraps of his motivation and approached Toriel.

“Hey, uh, Tori, how’s it going?” Sans awkwardly approached the boss monster as she cooked.

“Hello Sans. I am quite well today. How has your day gone?” Toriel replied warmly.

“It’s been real good, y’know, just knocking my bones about. Say, you remember the kid?” Sans tried to change the subject subtly. It worked. She was always ready to talk about the human.

“How could I forget? That dear child. I do hope they are doing well back at their true home.” She looked melancholy for a moment, then continued. “I miss them, they brought real life to this place. Not that you don’t, Sans, of course.” Toriel was a little flustered.

Sans pretended to be offended. “Jeez, Toriel, that cut me to the bone. You saying I’m not warm blooded?” Sans dropped the jokes and brushed it off. “But yeah, I get ya. I know you miss them a lot. I know you gave them a lot. And I bet they appreciate it.” Talking about the child like this gave Sans a bad taste in his mouth, but he just gritted his teeth and grinned through it, like always.

Toriel glowed and eagerly began talking. “Oh, yes. To be honest, Sans, I almost feel like they were my own child. Do you know the first thing they did when I gave them a phone was to call me and call me ‘mom’?” 

Sans nodded. He had heard plenty of stories about the kid’s few weeks spent living with Toriel. He used the opening Toriel unwittingly gave him to press the conversation. “A phone, huh? What a lucky kid. When I was young, we just used tin cans and string.” Sans shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t think I saw them with a phone, though. Do you remember their number.” 

Toriel nodded and gave Sans a curious look. “Sans, why do you want to know their number?”

Sans struggled to think of a reasonable explanation. “Oh, y’know, just want to catch up with the kid, see how they’re doing. Who knows, maybe they’ll get a signal.” 

“I understand. I myself have not called them since they left. I think perhaps I should, but they so clearly wanted to leave I did not want to intrude upon them. If you do, by chance, contact them, could you mention me?” Toriel smiled fondly at Sans.

All Sans could say was, “of course, Tori,” as she wrote down the human’s phone number on a piece of paper and slide it over to him. He took it and folded it away into a pocket for later. 

Sans stared at the numbers. He compared them to the ones on Papyrus’s sheet. He was getting pretty close to their number. He sighed and rubbed his eye sockets. Was he seriously going to do this? Just call up a murderer and have a casual conversation. As if small talk is normal in the face of that.

All these thoughts were too much. Wondering what would happen was digging at him. Hell, maybe he’d even get through to the child and everything would go back to how it was. Reset. Fat chance, that, but it bolstered him enough to pick up his own out of date, scratched phone and dial the number.

The phone rang.

The phone rang.

The phone rang.

Click. The answering machine picked up. Were they seriously not even going to face this phone call? Or were they waiting for him to start before picking up the phone?

“Heya.” He paused. “Is anyone there…?” Maybe it was easier this way. Still, it’s just another one-way conversation. Sans had been having too many of those with himself.

“Well, I’ll just leave a message.” He winked, pretty sure that didn’t translate well through the phone. It was too casual, but necessary. If he didn’t keep it casual, he had a feeling he might start yelling or sobbing.

“So…It’s been a while.” Actually, come to think of it, Sans didn’t know how long it had been. He continued, “The queen returned and attempted to resume ruling the Underground. She instated a new policy. All the humans who fall here would be treated not as enemies…but as friends.” Sans talked about the first thing that came to his mind.

There was a long pause. He wondered how things would have been different if Asgore had that policy when this human had fallen. Would they have passed peacefully through, or would they have killed more without anyone to stop them? 

At any rate, he had a story to tell. “But people REALLY didn’t like that policy.” He remembered the anger of the people, their accusations of ‘traitor’ thrown at Toriel, the borderline riots. 

It was time to remind the human of their sins. “Because of you, not only was the king gone, but the human souls had gone missing as well, along with the life of Undyne, their greatest hero.” Sans thought about mentioning Papyrus. He didn’t.

“No one wanted to see that happen ever again.” It was a subtle threat. “So people started a rebellion to overthrow the queen. But she, uh, pretty much gave up peacefully after she realized. So she went back to the ruins. The Underground’s basically an uneasy anarchy now.”

Sans thought about the newspapers and what remained of Snowdin. “Everyone’s trying to live life like they always have, but it’s not really easy, you know? When all of your hope has pretty much been thrown away.” Another subtle dig at the kid’s actions. 

Sans deflected away from the anger lingering behind that subject. “But hey! It’s not all bad!” He winked, almost sarcastically. Sure, some things were still around, still good, but to say anything good had come of this would be exaggerating. “When the queen went back to the ruins, I decided to go with her. And I took out some books from the library, too, so she wouldn’t have to read the same ones. She’s a good roomie.” Getting too casual again. “We have a lot of fun.” Definitely too casual, and a little bit snarky, too. 

He paused for another long moment, collecting his thoughts. Toriel. Toriel was always good to talk about. Back then, Papyrus was always good to talk about, but now…well, the kid knew what happened to him, so they’d get to hear what happened with Toriel too. He had promised her, after all. “You know. Sometimes the queen talks about…how much she’d like to see you again,” his tone was fairly neutral, but there was a hint of mockery in it. “Isn’t that nice?”

Sans let that sink in. The fact that someone could possibly miss that human still boggled his mind sometimes, despite Toriel’s obvious fondness. “I don’t have the heart to tell her what you did. Do you know how she’d react?”

Tension thickened in the air. Sans was deadly serious now. He continued his train of thought in a dark tone, “if I told her that cause she protected you…you went one to kill my brother…?”

He let that hang heavily. “Anyway, never come back here. You are not welcome. Later.” He winked at the end, almost returning to his aloofly casual demeanor. He ended the call. Sans stared at the black screen. 

Nothing changed.

The world wasn’t reset.

Papyrus didn’t come back.

Sans was still here. 

Emotions rolled through him. He couldn’t say he felt better, but he didn’t feel worse for calling. It was almost like an end. Closure. Sans didn’t want it to be over, he didn’t want this to be the final stage of his existence. Just living in the ruins alone except for Toriel, with nothing to do or look forward to. This couldn’t be the best it could get.

Eventually he stood up from under the stunted tree he had sat under. He patted it’s gray bark. It was doomed to die down here, along with the rest of them. Slowly, Sans walked home. Home. He didn’t think before using that word. No place would ever truly be home without Papyrus, but still, Toriel’s house was more than just a place he was living in. Maybe home would never be truly complete without Toriel, either. Maybe that was enough.

As soon as he reached the house, he took a nap. Maybe this was enough for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back with another chapter. Like I said, I will finish this story, it will just take me a while. As you might've guessed from the topic, I struggle with some serious mental health problems, so writing is slow. Thanks for sticking with this story.

            Sans almost expected things to be different when he woke up. It seemed like such a natural break, just fall asleep and let the world fix itself. That was a cop out, and Sans knew it. To expect others to solve all the world’s problems while you ignore it, try to get through with minimum commitment. How selfish, almost as selfish as leaving completely and passing off your pain to someone else.

            When Sans awoke, he felt fully present for the first time in a long time. It was terrifying. He didn’t know what to expect. Of course, it had been a while since his notebooks of timelines had stopped being able to predict the future, but now, in the cold, clear light of the morning, things seemed real. The light outside of his window was still dim and gray, the jewels that provided the Underground’s “daylight” powering back up before they would reach their zenith, the warm glow that passed as noon down here. He could go back to sleep. Just roll over and continue existing.

            But he didn’t. Sans laid there, not quite thinking, but not zoning out either. Just being present. Random thoughts drifted into his head as he stared at the paint-cracked ceiling. They didn’t linger long. Not to the point of overthinking and getting caught up in what-ifs. He wouldn’t call it nice, but it wasn’t awful either.

            The terrifying part was the absolute starkness of it all. Sure, memories of Papyrus were tinged with joy and sorrow and thoughts of the kid were overlaid with resentment, but things were simpler than they had been in a long time.

            Things weren’t going to get better. Things weren’t going to get better on their own. The human wasn’t going to reset. Papyrus wasn’t going to come back. He was going to have to live his whole life without Papyrus. Papyrus, the only thing that got him through some days.

            But here he was, living without Papyrus. Well, living was a bit of an exaggeration, an optimistic twist of words. Surviving, or enduring, or existing might have been a better choice.

            Nevertheless, he was here. Lifted from the haze he had descended into, the future was barren. No Papyrus. No justice. No freedom. No light.

            The cold truth confronted him in a way he probably should have been expecting. There were no inhibitions on what he could do. Some part of him, the part that shirked from change, confrontation, and strove for paltry self-preservation protested this. It urged him to return to the haze, the unending, unremarkable turn of days. Sure, he wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t terribly sad either. Sure, things didn’t get better, but things didn’t get worse. He could return to that, not think, not feel.

            Another part of Sans protested this deeply. It almost felt like the urge he had before calling the human. There, his emotions roiled beneath his rib cage. There was nothing stopping Sans, and that was terrifying and wonderful. It couldn’t be called motivation, for there was no direction, no desires, just a realization that he could do something, and that there was emotion in him to do it with. Volatile, confusing, painful emotions, but emotions all the same.

It was a strange feeling. Since he had become aware of the resets and timelines, Sans had resigned himself to a life where nothing he did truly mattered. Sure, there were no consequences for his actions if he did choose to act recklessly or try something different, but there was no control. No meaning. Why work and change if everything and anything could vanish at someone else’s whims?

That mindset, that helplessness, had been such a part of his life that it had followed him into this new era without thought. But now, at least for these pre-dawn moments, Sans was free from them. If nobody was going to reset, either that kid or whoever was able to reset before the human had fallen down, then…then things could change. Things could matter in a way they hadn’t been able to in a long time. But what meaning was left in a world without Papyrus? Even through those resets, Papyrus had brought meaning into Sans’s otherwise bleak life.

A reckless, emotional part of Sans didn’t care about meaning, just action. Thoughts and ideas flirted through his mind. Destruction and damage, to himself and to the walls that trapped them all down here. Screaming and yelling. Openly sobbing. Telling Toriel all the grisly details about the child and the resets. Just blind action, raging against whatever was around him. It was scary. There was nothing really stopping him from following through on all these impulsive thoughts.

Sans hovered between these two extremes. On one side was the apathy, the mindless blur of days and denial. On the other side was open, bleeding emotion and action, lashing out at the monsters around him, at the structures around him, at himself.

And yet, despite the choice, there was still no meaning to either. Even if he stood at the barrier and slammed all his magic at it, clashed against it until rocks and dust fell around him, it wouldn’t change anything.

There was a third option. Well, not really an option. An anti-option, an option for when there are no other options.

It would almost be easy. Certainly many others in the Underground had taken it, left their problems in the dust. This wasn’t a foreign idea, either. It had lingered for years, almost like a backup plan in case things got too bad. And with Papyrus and the resets, the old excuses to keep living, gone, the choice lingered in Sans’s mind.

But despite it all, he wasn’t dead yet.

That was the most confusing thing of all. Why was he alive? Why hadn’t the kid killed him? Why hadn’t he fallen down even though he had the lowest health and plenty of reasons when many others had already died? Sans could justify his own death, he could throw the biggest pity party in the Underground with his woes. There was no reason to keep living, not Papyrus, not the resets, not his jobs, not the stigma about it being selfish, not the cliché that things get better, even Toriel would move on in the long run.

And yet, he was alive. More than that, he didn’t plan to die. He didn’t want to live, and death was the alternative to living. Like a light switch, a yes-or-no question, but although Sans didn’t want to live, he didn’t really want to die.

What sort of space is there in between, for someone who can’t bear to live but won’t die yet?

Tears pricked on the edges of his eye sockets, but didn’t fall. He didn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to die. Maybe he should, after all he had done and all he had seen. Maybe he didn’t deserve to live when Papyrus didn’t, but he was alive. All those days he had coasted along in denial, apathy, and Toriel’s kindness, putting off that decision was a choice in of itself. The choice to live, or at least, postpone his death. It would have been easy, easier than continuing on, but Sans was still here.

Sans covered his mouth with a hand. He wasn’t crying, or making any noise, but his thoughts, emotions, and the stunning realization that he didn’t want to die rose up in him, and the physical act made it almost bearable to contain them all in him.

It shouldn’t be this hard, right? Living was supposed to be an easy choice. Realizing you want to live should be joyful, invigorating. Like getting off of a super scary rollercoaster and seeing everything more beautiful for having survived. Or watching something you made succeed while already feeling your hands itch for the next project. Or watching the sunrise and making calm but determined plans for the day. It was supposed to be a push, a rediscovery of the internal drive that motivates and makes every day worthwhile. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It wasn’t supposed to be a devastating epiphany. It shouldn’t feel like a loss, like his future was closing up in front of him. It shouldn’t be terrifying.

Sans lay curled up on his messy bed as the early morning passed. He couldn’t bring himself to move, not with all these emotions that felt too big for his short body. Half formed thoughts dashed around. He didn’t bother trying to catch them. It was all too much. Like a hurricane in a desert.

Eventually, a gentle knock came from the door. The noise caused Sans to twitch. Toriel carefully opened the door and poked her head into his room and called out softly to the motionless skeleton “Sans, it’s breakfast time. I’d hate for your _eggs_ -celent food to get cold. _Doughnut_ sleep too much longer.”

Familiar puns soothed Sans. He mumbled something into the mattress, trying to sound like he had just woken from a restful night’s sleep instead of being awake for hours in emotional turmoil. Satisfied, Toriel left, leaving the door slightly ajar. A golden beam of light fell across the room from the door. It almost looked solid. Sans watched small particles of dust float through the light. His mind slowly went blank as he watched the dust dance. It was mellow, normal.

Everything was okay. Not really, nothing would truly be fully okay ever again, but things were normal, which was close enough. Sans could hear Toriel bustle about the kitchen and dining room. Sans knew he had to summon the strength to rise up, but his bones felt like they were filled with lead, not marrow, and his mind had finally stilled from the tumultuous morning.

He wondered if maybe if he had amnesia, he could have been happy in this moment. Maybe without the sorrowful memories he could be happy. Or maybe the sadness in his soul would tag along like a persistent cold, a part of him regardless of situation. Maybe in some timeline, he was happy at this moment. Sans didn’t even know if he wanted to be happy, it looked like a lot of energy, and there was some guilt about him being happy when so many weren’t around anymore to be anything.

Then again, Papyrus would have wanted him to be happy. Papyrus always wanted a lot from and for him. He wouldn’t have let Sans lie around for months doing absolutely nothing. Papyrus would have propelled Sans through any hardship, simply through sheer brotherly love and force of will.

Thought of Papyrus were dangerous. Sans was feeling peculiarly fragile after the emotional dawn, but allowed himself to imagine how Papyrus would have woken him up. Maybe the fire alarm would be the first to awaken him, or Papyrus would yell to him from the kitchen because he needed Sans to grab him something and he was fully occupied, or maybe he would kick down the door to enthusiastically offer a new recipe to Sans.

Sans let out a long sigh and opened his eyes. It was breakfast time. He could already hear Toriel walking back down the hallway. By the time she opened his door again, Sans was sitting up in bed. “Hey Tori, you _butter_ have plenty of food, I’m hungry.”

Toriel grinned. “It is a good thing you are awake, or else you would be _toast_.”

Sans returned her smile. “Of course I’m up, your food is a _bacon_ of light in my life.”

Toriel chuckled. “Come now, Sans, don’t you think it’s a little early to try to _butter_ me up?”

As Sans stood up and stretched, he replied “Yeah, you’re right, that wasn’t _smoothie_ of me at all, guess I’ll stick to being _cheesy_.”

Toriel shook her head at his antics. “Quite _waffling_ around and come out here. You just may get in a _jam_ if you keep that up on an empty stomach.”

Sans joined Toriel in the hallway “Don’t _scone_ me. I have a PhD in puns. Ain’t _muffin_ to it.”

Toriel laughed, and after a moment, so did Sans. The two monsters sat at the table, Toriel in her usual chair, Sans in what was probably a child’s chair, based off of the size. In front of them was a delicious looking array of breakfast pastries, adorned with jam and fruit.

Toriel thoughtfully watched Sans chow down on one flaky pastry. “Are they good? I’ve never tried this recipe before.” She asked him.

Sans paused to wipe the jam off of his face and spoke through a mostly full mouth, “Yeah, these are great Tori.”

Toriel smiled, but still seemed troubled. “Are you sure? I trust you to be honest with me, Sans. I trust you to tell me if something is ever wrong. After all, things can hardly improve if no attempts at change are made.”

Sans uneasily swallowed. The look on Toriel’s face was calm but concerned, and above all, knowledgeable. This was about more than food, that much was clear. How much did she know? Her words hit him hard as well. Having someone put their trust in you isn’t quite a promise, but it carries nearly the weight of one. It was a promise, half unspoken, if he didn’t refuse her trust.

A long moment of silence passed as Sans thought over Toriel’s words. She knew something, was referring to something. Did she suspect all the white lies Sans had told her? Was this about the phone call he made yesterday? Was he acting that strange this morning? He had figured that throwing in that many puns would’ve counter acted any change in mood or behavior he showed today. Or maybe she was always this gently concerned, always leaving the conversation open for when Sans was ready to talk, and he just hadn’t noticed it like he hadn’t noticed anything since they moved into the ruins.

Finally, Sans replied. “Yeah, Tori, your food is always awesome. Things are fine, just-” No! why did that last word slip out! Now Toriel looked even more concerned and motherly.

“Just what, Sans? Please, talk to me. I am aware that I have not been as good of a friend as I should have been, to not follow up on your emotional wellbeing, especially considering the events that have happened in the Underground.” Toriel slowly reached out and took Sans’s free hand. The sheer amount of kindness, gentleness, warmness, and understanding in her eyes were so powerful and genuine they hurt.

For a moment, Sans allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if he told Toriel everything. He imagined how it would feel, having someone else who understands, someone who cares, who can help him through his bad days, who can make him laugh but doesn’t mind if he’s not always laughing, someone he could lean on.

His imagination abruptly cut away from the idealized fantasies and showed him the more likely possibilities of telling Toriel about the kid and the resets. Sans could already almost see Toriel’s face twist into disbelief and despair. He pictured how the weight of the truth would drain Toriel, maybe even breaking her and turning her into some pathetic shell like Sans. The truth would change everything. It would hurt so many things.

Toriel doesn’t deserve that kind of suffering. Sans was already a physical burden on her, just lazing about as she cooked and cleaned, he refused to be an emotional burden on her as well. He refused to allow his weakness hurt her. After all, what use was the “truth” if it only lead to so much harm?

Sans pulled away. Toriel let him. Sans said “Heh, thanks Tori, but really, everything’s fine. I’m just being a bonehead.”

Toriel still watched him closely as she spoke. “Alright, if you are certain, Sans. Just remember, you can always talk to me. Perhaps some fresh air will do us both some good. I think I will tend to the golden flowers today, care to join me?”

Sans gratefully took the opening Toriel offered him. “That sounds _bouquet_ to me, _lilac_ any other plans for today.” The puns were weak, and they both knew it. Sans carefully examined Toriel’s face. He was somewhat of an expert at reading faces. However, few monsters knew enough about skeleton monsters to read their facial expressions, and nobody really cared enough to get to know Sans to read his face. Looking at Toriel, though, he had the unsettling feeling that Toriel could read him like a book, and was well aware that he wasn’t telling the full truth.

A deep sense of discomfort pierced his soul. Toriel knew, or at the very least, she knew that she didn’t know. All this time, Sans had been unconsciously treating her like Papyrus: with fondness but low expectations about her perceptiveness. Considering her willful ignorance over the human’s actions, it had made sense, but even that was brought into question by this. Toriel couldn’t be so observant about him and not know about what the kid had done. How did she make sense of the loss of life and all the other things that had gone down in the Underground since the kid had passed through? Did she assume it was all in self-defense? Had she already completely forgiven the kid? Or was she still completely ignorant?

Well, there’s no way to know for sure, not unless he asked, and there’s no way he’s going to open that can of worms right after managing to deflect it. Sans turned back to breakfast. He had little appetite at the best of times, and this morning was far from that, but he reached for another pastry. No point in worrying Toriel over his diet.

Toriel accepted the puns with a small smile and returned to eating as well. Apparently ignorant of Sans’s inner turmoil, she continued making plans. “Wonderful. They require weeding and watering. I hope you won’t be too bored there, _floral_ be busy with the plants.” Sans chuckled at the pun and relaxed slightly.

Soon, the two monsters departed from the small cottage, trowels and watering cans in hand. As Sans followed the larger monster through the ruins, a strange feeling welled up in him. He puzzled over it, trying to decipher what it was and why it stood out amidst the avalanche of emotions this day was turning out to be.

It was almost like anticipation, or like there’s some sort of deadline, or a sense of nervous inevitability. Eyes locked on the back of Toriel’s purple robe, Sans figured out what it was. It was the realization that Toriel was going to find out everything. Sooner or later, well-spoken or blurted out, from Sans or from some other monster, no matter the time or delivery, Toriel was going to discover the truth of the events that had transpired and both his and her place in them.

The thought sent a chill into his bones.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day, since this one is short. There's probably three or four chapters left in this story.

Despite the emotionally tumultuous morning, or perhaps because of it, Sans fell asleep in the golden flowers. It wasn't hard to relax in the small garden. The golden warmth and light streamed down from the distant hazy gap in the cave and embraced him. A few bees and butterflies fluttered about the flowers and the two monsters. The hard stone of the path gave into the soft dirt and softer grass and flowers. Toriel hovered nearby as a calm, familiar presence, humming some tune under her breath. When Sans laid back in the flowers and looked up like he had before falling asleep, he could see the blue piece of sky framed by the bright flowers, and it was almost like the best case scenario, the one where they had all made it out of the mountain.

It was the very picture of peace. The perfect place to take a nap, to regain his lost sleep without troublesome thoughts.

Unfortunately, the peace of the place could not find its way into Sans's mind. Beneath his closed eyes, the beauty and serenity was twisted. Nightmares slinked out of the shadows.

Sans turned over and clenched a fist. His hand closed over a flower. His dreams warped it, gave the flower sharp teeth and evil eyes. Half remembered images and scenes pulled Sans in deeper. It didn't make sense, in the way most dreams don't make sense. There was just that flower, high pitched cackling, danger, and fighting. Sans's sleep grew more restless. His fingers twitched in response to the magical attacks he summoned in his dreams.

Suddenly, a knife cut through the evil flower. Fearful and angry, Sans turned to meet this new threat. It was the kid. They didn't speak, just stared at him with blank eyes and a sadistic smile. They approached slowly, weapon out. A noise made them both turn. Toriel stood there with her arms out. The child was in front of her. The child was swinging the knife.

Toriel looked up as blood and dust dripped from her. "Why, Sans? You could have done something. You're pathetic." She said, and collapsed.

Sans turned to the child, bones already forming. They fought.

Meanwhile, Sans's sleeping body became more agitated. Toriel approached the sleeping skeleton, speaking reassurances. She tried to wake him up by gently shaking him, but he flinched back the moment her hand touched him.

In his dream, Sans saw Toriel appear again. He didn't bother to rationalize it, it was a dream, and a desperate, chaotic dream at that. All he knew was that Toriel was back. He had another chance. He could save her.

The child again raised their knife. Sans moved in front of them, and pulled every bit of magic he could out of himself. He channeled the magic, the terror, the rage, and constructed the largest skull blaster he had ever formed. A massive energy beam exploded. Everything turned blue.

The real noise of it all shocked him out of his nightmares. Sans sat up too fast and braced himself against his knees and the ground. He shook violently and gasped. It was so vivid. It was so much.

"Sans?" Toriel tentatively said. Sans's head jolted up and stared at Toriel. She was alive. She was safe. But she looked worried, almost scared.

He needed to get himself under control. Toriel should not look like that, shouldn't be looking at him like that. Sans raised a trembling hand to his skull. Focus. Calm down. Be okay.

Sans felt so incredibly drained, more than any other nightmare had left him. He slowly raised his head. His worst suspicion was confirmed. The wall of the cave facing him was partly blasted away, partly melted. He had done that. He could've hurt Toriel.

Toriel approached Sans slowly. Self-hate filled his soul. Surely she must be moving so slowly because she is afraid of Sans now. He deserves it. He lost control. He's a mess. He's a freak. He's pathetic. He's useless. He's to blame. He doesn't deserve her kindness.

Her hug surprised him. For a moment, everything stopped.

Then it started. Sans was still shaking and gasping, halfway to crying already. He remembered. He felt. And it hurt. All his attempts to stop only fueled the process. He cried into Toriel's arms.

He sobbed and wailed. It was messy and ugly. Tears streaked down his cheeks and stained Toriel's shirt. His soul rolled in misery. His magic sparked around him, weak but trying to do something, anything. Papyrus. Papyrus! He was dead. He was dead because of Sans. Other names and faces came to him. Undyne. Alphys. His neighbors. All dead. Sans babbled meaningless sounds and fragments of names and pleas. After all this time of ignoring it, forcing himself to appear fine, it flowed out of him uncontrollably.

Toriel accepted it. She took this grossly sobbing monster and held him to her. She allowed the tears and snot to land on her, heard the broken cries, let the distraught magic to settle around her. Gently, ever so gently, she stroked his back and whispered soothing words into his ears. Toriel took Sans into her lap and hugged him as the storm of emotions passed through him.

Later there would be more talk. Later there would be stories that needed to be told. Later there would be things that finally were explained.

But for now, the two monsters clung to each other on this threshold.


End file.
